


Carpe Diem

by mjoInir



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Gore, Drama & Romance, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Former Vessel, Heavy Angst, Love Triangles, Old Friends, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-21
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-11-01 16:33:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17870774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mjoInir/pseuds/mjoInir
Summary: Theresa isn't crazy, but she isn't entirely sane. She had been a vessel for an angel, which left her scatter-brained and it left a three month gap in her memory.Castiel found her at a hospital, where he sensed some of the previous angel's grace still lingering. He had been watching over her ever since.Life for them was consistent and they were content with that. Until, of course, Castiel raises an old friend from Hell and Theresa is dragged into the fight.





	Carpe Diem

The lazy morning sun peaked in through the windows of the apartment, illuminating the small living room. An easel sat against the one wall, away from the practically abandoned television, the couch pushed up against the opposite wall. Painting supplies laid scattered across the already messy carpet, along with pencils and loose pieces of sketchbook paper. The woman, auburn hair pulled up into a loose and messy bun, tendrils of hair framing her face, finally took a seat on the couch. 

She sat admiring her work on the canvas, trying to catch any flaws in the image she had plucked from a fuzzy memory. It was from her point-of-view, but in those moments, she was not in any sort of control of her body. It was dark, in the picture, with only a single face in focus -- he looked particularly handsome, with dark hair and sharp features. She remembered calling him Mathias, or rather, the inhabitant of her body had called him that.

The woman was particularly distracted, she barely even heard the flapping of wings that would have otherwise alerted her of the angel. "Theresa,"

She jumped, startled, green eyes staring wide at the new person in the room. She recognized him instantly, and her heart slowed again, "Damnit, Castiel!"

The angel only blinked in response, taking in her features -- the blue paint smeared on her cheek, the dark circles under her eyes, the exhaustion in her posture. He frowned. "Have you slept?"

She furrowed her eyebrows, "Have you?"

If he had been human, he probably would have rolled his eyes at her, but instead he only stared. "You know I do not require sleep."

Theresa _did_ roll her eyes, clearly the angel still had not grasped the concept of her sarcasm. She tried to recall how long they had been acquainted, with his pop-in visits to check in on her. She had been left scatterbrained and quite beat up at the hospital by the former host of her body, and although ensuring her the whole process of leaving would be quick and easy, the whole ordeal had not been painless. It felt like she was being ripped in half, like instead of leaving, the angel had been torn from her. Castiel showed up not long after that.

At first, it really was only curiosity on why he was sensing leftover Grace on the woman that kept him around. Eventually, that dripped over into the unknown territory of concern, and perhaps a shred of something else, but the angel was not certain. Nor was he interested in exploring any human attributes -- he had to remain entirely unbiased and stoic, like any other angel.

"How about food? Have you eaten?"

Theresa shrugged, stepping over towards the canvas, scrutinizing it closely. It certainly looked very much like her memory.

" _Theresa_." Castiel used a tone of warning, which he had only used a handful of times with her.

"Castiel, I'm fine," she told him seriously, "I know how to take care of myself."

An eyebrow raised, his blue eyes flickering across the room. At the disregarded soda cans, mugs of coffee, and bags of chips, at the paint and dirty brushes strewn across the floor, at the heaps of blankets and pillows that led him to believe that if she was sleeping anywhere, it was the couch and not her room.

She watched as his eyes moved, and she pursed her lips, "I mean, hey, I'm not dead."

Castiel did not seem to catch the joke, and he continued to frown at her. 

Theresa sighed, "Fine, I'll eat,"

She made her way through her living room and into the kitchen. The angel followed silently. There was not much in her fridge, the ex-hunter had been able to successfully secure a job as a bank teller, but then she went MIA for three months, and they cut her loose. Now was was a secretary at a law firm, but she was still on a probationary period after having a slight _incident_.

Out of habit, she offered him a bit of her leftover Chinese. He always refused, reminding her that he did not require any food. As usual, it was quiet when she ate, either because she was alone or because Castiel never bothered to talk while she was eating. 

Theresa remembered saying yes to that angel, _Ariel_ , before she had become a vessel. She had not believed beforehand in anything Heaven related, only the things that went bump in the night were ever a concern for her. But, in asking, Ariel promised knowledge if only she could ride around in her meat suit for a bit of time. Theresa had an anti-possession tattoo, and she knew a demon would never ask, so out of plain curiosity she had told the angel yes. And then regretted it.

Those three months completely flipped her world upside down, and left more questions than answers. Perhaps the angel had given her too much and blended up her memories so she would not know what she had been made aware of. Or perhaps, it was too much for Theresa to handle and her mind just snapped. Either way, the three months were fuzzy and just thinking about it set her on edge. And for good reason.

Too much thought onto the subject of Ariel and her mind would start to react -- spitting out images and memories and enough violence to have Theresa screaming. Sometimes, her mind would begin to play tricks, or what seemed like tricks, showing her an old friend spending time screaming in Hell, or of misery that had yet to come to pass, and would send her into hysterics. This was why Castiel popped in whenever he could, because that concern was always on the back of his mind; concern that was on the verge of worry. 

That night just happened to be one of the bad ones, where bad memories crept up behind her, snatching away her sight until she was fully emerged in the recollection. 

_"Come on, I know you know where it is." The words leaving Theresa's mouth were not by her own making._

_Mathias stepped from the shadows, a silver blade in hand, staring down at the man tied up. He was no demon, no supernatural being. Just a regular guy who dipped his hand in the wrong cookie jar._

_The man cried out, "I swear! I don't know! I don't know!"_

_He was beaten bloody, an eye swollen and bruised, nose bloody, lip busted and both cheeks cut up. Both angels had no mercy, and they weren't even trying. Humans happened to be more fragile than they let on._

_"Then why were you talking to Eron?"_

_"He offered me money, but I didn't take it. I didn't take it."_

_Theresa's eyes flickered over to Mathias, an eyebrow raising, "Oh? Money for what?"_

_"Said he had a item, but I swear I wasn't interested. I don't deal in black market stuff anymore, I swear."_

_Theresa grabbed the man roughly by his chin, "Cut the shit, tell me what he had."_

_"I don't know!"_

_"Then you're useless to me."_

The man's screams echoed inside her head, bringing forth bloody images and sickening violence. Theresa had dealt personally with the blood and gore of killing some of the nastiest supernatural creatures, but they all had it coming. But this blood was different, darker almost. Senseless.

When Theresa came back to her senses, she was screaming, hands knotted in her hair, tears streaming down her cheeks. Castiel jumped upright, as this all happened within only a few seconds, and went to grab her, put her to sleep. But as soon has his skin made contact with hers, he was sent backwards, as well as the table and chairs. 

She blinked, eyes flickering over the dining room. Still seated in the chair, but everything else was back several feet from where it should have been. Castiel was getting up, as if he had been thrown to the ground. He made his way back over to her, staring into her eyes, seeing the power of the Grace flickering back at him. Something definitely was not right.

He brought two fingers to her forehead and sent her to sleep, catching her as she fell and then carrying her to her bed. After taking a minute to make sure she was sound asleep, he flew away to see if he could find any answers.


End file.
